


A Completely Terrible Stumbling Dance

by preussisch_blau



Series: World's End Dance Hall [5]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual Character, Multi, Other, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5909458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preussisch_blau/pseuds/preussisch_blau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There once was a world where Barry Allen's life wasn't torn apart in a whirlwind of gold and red lightning, where Harrison Wells' wasn't ended on a lonely road with no one to bear witness. Once, the words on Barry's arm didn't link him to a murderer. Once, Harrison's arm didn't remain stubbornly bare until the day he died.</p>
<p>Or, the lifetime in which Harrison Wells and Barry Allen are absolutely pleased with these developments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the breath before the phrase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I _should_ be working on/posting: the next chapter of the main story of this verse.
> 
> Things I _am_ working on/posting: this.
> 
> Blame jujubiest.

There was once a world where words didn't mark Barry Allen's skin on a cold March night when his life was torn apart in streaks of impossible lightning.

In that world, the words don't write themselves on his skin until months later, a bright July morning, already hot and hazy despite the still early hour. The only reason Barry is even awake to notice is because it's Saturday, and that means cartoons, but all thoughts of TV are wiped from his head when he looks down at his suddenly too-itchy arm and sees letters there. Written in grey, written in the sort of script that suggests someone very creative, who writes quickly because it's the only way to get all the ideas out before they're forgotten in favour of new ones.

The way the periods are more like little diagonal dashes. The way some of the lowercase letters are more like smudges suggesting the proper forms than anything else. The way the lines of the R don't fully connect with the ascender, the way the A is written not with a proper cross-bar but with a swoop that suggests the beginning of a star -which is really cool, because of what the words _say._ Every little detail is like a peek into his soulmate's mind.

He runs to get his mom -Dad is at the hospital by now, the end of a week of morning shifts-, jumping on her bed and bouncing excitedly, barely able to hold still at the thrill of _finally_ knowing he has a soulmate.

The words are kind of mysterious, though. It's awesome that they reveal where he'll meet his soulmate, but he's never heard of the place before in his life. He doesn't think it even _exists._

It's not until Monday when that mystery is finally solved, the headline of the newspaper declaring that there will be a new scientific laboratory coming to Central City. Barry doesn't usually care much for the news, but this time he devours the article. The article itself is boring, because it's about contracts being signed over some land ownership, but the exciting part is the name of the lab. The exciting part is that the lab will be owned by Drs Harrison Wells and Tess Morgan. 

It's exciting because he recognises Dr Wells' name, has seen him interviewed in two documentaries now, and both times the man is alert and engaging, enthusiastic about science in a way no one Barry knows is. He really wants to meet him one day, wonders if he's just as cool in person, and if he's going to be working in Central City… He grins from ear to ear.

And he decides then and there, when the article mentions that the site was chosen because it's an ideal location for a particle accelerator, that he's going to focus more on physics than anything -even though he adores chemistry, and biology is really cool too- because he _has_ to work there. He's not going to settle for just meeting his soulmate while he's visiting the place for some other reason. And he'd _love_ to work with Dr Wells.

That night, he drifts off to sleep with a grin, touching the grey words on his skin.

_'Welcome to S.T.A.R. Labs.'_

* * *

He's spent thirty-five (or was it thirty-seven?) years without a mark on his arm, but that couldn't hardly bother him less. Sure, sure, there are all the common ideas about how people without soulmates must be dark, twisted individuals, but he's never let anything as silly as that get to him. Harrison knows who he is, and if the universe has decided that he is a single, solitary creature? Well, then it probably knows better than he does about these things. It's infinite and omnipresent, after all.

Maybe if he'd been colder, rougher around the edges -which is a ridiculous thought, but there you have it- then the rest of the world might have tried to box him into the category of 'villain' more than it already does. But he fights back against that stereotype with the same effusive idealism he applies to everything else in his life. In the end, no one who actually knows him can claim he's an evil man.

Actually, the common joke is that his soulmate is physics, because he could go on _endlessly_ about the wonders hidden in something as small as a quark, the joy in the vibration of a string that could resolve itself into something as weak as a graviton, the beauty in the trails left when two particles are smashed together at a _tremendously_ high speed.

The other one, teasingly spoken most often by his Tess -his _miracle_ in human form- and her soulmate Tina -who is equally miraculous because she was the one who introduced him to Tess-, is that the world is his soulmate. Because, really, all he wants to do is explore its mysteries and give back to it ten times what it has already given him. He wants to make the world a better place. His love of science is equalled only by his love of humanity, his unfailing belief that they can all be better versions of themselves. (Admittedly, all of this is outclassed by his love for Tess, but he's only _human._ )

So it comes as a complete shock to him the day they finally get the contracts signed that make the large, open expanse of fields just on the edge of Central City _theirs._ The future site of the flagship office of S.T.A.R. Labs. (He still kind of prefers T.E.S.S., but he's easily convinced by his wife that, no, S.T.A.R. is a much better name. And since it's _their_ child, the only one they will ever have for many reasons… Well, his dad always said you should let the mother have her way when it came to naming the babies, and while he could argue with that _endlessly_ , the fact is that S.T.A.R. makes Tess happier than having the labs named after her and he can't argue with _that._ )

It's not until they're in the car, ready to head home to celebrate, when Harrison finally tugs up his sleeve to _really_ scratch the odd itch that has been bothering him for the past while. Tess looks over then, and gasps loud enough to startle him.

"What? What is it?" he asks, brows furrowed because she's looking at him like she's seen a ghost or something.

She blinks, and comes back to herself with a radiant grin, and who is really the star here because she's luminous enough that the harsh July sun seems dim in compare. "Oh, _Harrison,_ " Tess says with all the love and amused fondness in the world, "Look at your arm."

That makes him blink, confused, but he does as she says anyways because she's hardly ever been _wrong_ when she tells him he needs to do something, and-

_Oh._

Harrison hesitantly touches the words he sees there, words that look like a child has taken a pencil to his skin with how the letters are formed, ill-practised yet neatly placed. It's a little unsettling, in a certain way, to think that his… his _soulmate_ is still a child. He has to have at _least_ two decades on them! Not that platonic relationships aren't a thing -he's married to a woman who isn't his soulmate, who has one of her own, after all-, but it's still _strange._ And yet.

He can't help the grin that spreads across his face.

_'Oh, oh wow.'_ indeed.


	2. the fear before the phrase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I meant to work on: my Barrison week fics.
> 
> Things I am posting: this, because it's written.
> 
> No, they don't meet yet. So sorry.

"So, I guess congratulations are in order," Iris says as she sets Barry's coffee down in front of him. She settles into the seat across, cupping her own drink in both hands.

Barry laughs, glancing down at the pattern in the steamed milk. A leaf, actually, instead of the usual random swirls, but it's slow and he guesses the barista is kind of bored. "It's just an interview, Iris. Doesn't mean I'm gonna get hired."

"Uh huh," she smiles slightly, "Just an interview, at one of the most competitive scientific laboratories in the country. Just an interview, for the theoretical physics division at the lab built specifically for a next-gen particle accelerator."

"Stiiiill doesn't mean I'm gonna get hired," Barry says, a grin of his own slowly spreading across his face. "But I'm glad you actually pay attention to my babbling."

"Only because it's important to you, and what kind of best friend would I be if I didn't?" she replies, reaching out to lace her fingers with his.

"I dunno," he squeezes her hand, "A pretty amazing one anyways?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Barry."

"Hey, I'm only speaking the truth here." The defensive tone of his voice is wholly a joke.

He turns her wrist, so he can view the words written up her arm. ' _Miss, miss! You can't come in here._ ' 

"Still haven't run into this guy yet?" he muses. "I woulda thought you'd have found them by now; how often do you get told you can't enter certain buildings or cross police lines?"

Iris shakes her head slightly. "Way too much. I dunno if it would help or hurt if I pretended to be visiting Dad at this point."

"Can't do that forever," he points out. "One day, Iris West is gonna be an ace reporter, and for that, you gotta get the scoop under your own merits."

"You'd be surprised," she says, releasing her drink to rest her chin on the heel of her hand. "It's really more about _who_ you know, sometimes."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't know anything about that," he quips. He would know a few things about it, courtesy of being considered one of the more promising minds at the local college. Sure, it's not the best physics program, the most prestigious, but it was what his family could afford, and Barry had made sure to make the best of it. And he's not brilliant the way some people are, passing effortlessly through even the toughest work, but he's dedicated, which he likes to think counts for just as much as raw talent.

"Uh huh, sure," she teases. "Totally why the head of the department was not the guy who handed you the print-out about the opening at S.T.A.R. before it was even posted on any external websites. You don't know _anyone_ important."

"Again, _just_ because her husband works in the computational physics lab at S.T.A.R. does not mean I have an in. He's not even part of the team I'm interviewing for, I don't think. And I'm probably the _least_ qualified person applying, so I don't even know why they're wasting the time interviewing me."

Iris shakes her head. "Barry, you really have to stop selling yourself short. Besides, if they didn't want to take the chance on someone inexperienced, they wouldn't have had such a low experience requirement. And you keep telling me they're doing something new and exciting with this accelerator. Maybe they're looking for someone without any biases from prior work."

"You're right," he sighs, groaning quietly. "You're right. I need to stop worrying about this. I've done internships at Mercury and Stagg, and it's not like it's more than a glorified lab tech position. It'll be fine."

"That's the spirit!" Iris chirps. "Though, I thought you said the position was one of the leads in the accelerator crew?"

"Shhh," Barry whispers. "I'm trying to not psych myself out here."

* * *

He's not an idiot when it comes to societal expectations, and he's not half as out of touch and oblivious as people think he is.

Which is why the fact that the handwriting on his arm has matured to a level he'd expect from a young adult, yet is still stubbornly grey has Harrison in a bit of a panic. It's been fourteen _years,_ to the _day,_ long enough that his soulmate is an adult now, and he is quite possibly the only man in the world who is _not_ okay with this development.

Even Tess can't quite soothe him, but she does at least manage to get him to articulate his thoughts in a manner that does not make him sound like some kind of predator, so that does help. A little.

It's just that… meeting this person as an adult? What if they have expectations about how this whole soulmate thing is supposed to go? Everyone has them. And everyone knows your soulmate is your perfect complement, but there's this idea that they're also your perfect life partner -not necessarily true, he's seen that in action often enough-, and with _that_ idea…

"You're afraid they're going to want to have sex," Tess finishes bluntly.

"Got it in one!" he yelps. Harrison wrings his hands nervously as he looks at her. "I mean, if we'd met while they were still a _kid,_ then. Well. I doubt anyone would expect it to be anything but platonic. But."

She rubs her forehead and smiles at him. "Harrison. I'd like to think that your _soulmate_ would understand that you don't particularly like sex."

"But I sleep with you," he reminds her, pointedly, because it's a very valid point. What kind of person is he if he's willing to compromise on that with his _wife_ but not his _soulmate?_ He's not entirely sure, but he is fairly certain the word 'hypocrite' is involved somewhere.

Tess just sits there, hand against her forehead and elbow on the table. She's giving him that _look_ again, the one that says she thinks he's overthinking this way too much and it's adorable but he's giving her a headache. Harrison huffs, because he most certainly is _not_ overthinking this. He is giving it a perfectly rational and reasonable amount of thought!

"And I am very grateful, even though I've said before you really _don't have to,_ I _understand,_ " she reminds him in return. "But, look, if you don't feel comfortable having the asexual talk with whomever this turns out to be, you _have_ excuses."

"What?"

Her face practically screams, _'You've got to be kidding me,'_ but she doesn't actually say that. Instead Tess sighs and chuckles. "One: You're married. Having a soulmate does not mean you have to divorce me. And you can still feel like it's cheating on me if you sleep with them. Two: You might get lucky and have a male soulmate, at which point it's a very simple explanation that, sorry, you're not gay."

"Well, _technically-_ "

"The point is to tell enough of the truth to get you out of the talk, not word vomit to the point where you confuse the poor kid and make them feel unwanted."

"But-"

"You're overthinking this!"

"Am not."

She raises her eyebrows at him in a very pointed manner. "Oh yes you are, mister. You haven't even _considered_ they might not be interested in sex either."

"…Now it sounds like you're accusing me of _under_ thinking." Harrison finally sits down at the table, across from her. He reaches out to steal a piece of her toast, since she hasn't touched it since he entered the kitchen for coffee whilst fretting aloud over the whole soulmate business.

She smacks his hand. "Mine."

"You don't love me any more," he teases.

"Not when you bother me with unfounded worries before I've had a chance to eat my breakfast," she says.

"…I don't think they're unfounded," he says softly, staring down into his coffee.

Tess takes his hand, squeezing it gently. "For now, they are. You don't know anything about this person, so you're borrowing trouble. Besides, you'll know how to handle it when the moment comes. Just… follow your instincts."

He glances over the frame of his glasses, raising one eyebrow. "I thought we agreed that I wasn't allowed to do that until you checked my work. Or have you forgotten what I did to that poor electrical engineering lab?"

She laughs loudly at that, looking down and away to try to hide it just a little. "If you can figure out how to spontaneously blow up a room just by having a _talk,_ then you know what? I'm not even going to be mad. I'll be impressed."

" _Well,_ I could-"

"You are not going to rig any rooms to detonate if specific words are said," she interrupts with mock severity.

"That wasn't where I was going at all, actually. It would defeat the point of _spontaneous_ detonation. I was just going to say, I could have it in the one lab where we keep the chemicals that are really sensitive to mechanical shock."

"…I'm revoking your security clearance for that lab."


End file.
